Three Empties
by SRu
Summary: Three men. Three women. Three emotional monologues. Please review. AU - details of "Berrisford Agenda" have changed. COMPLETE STORY.
1. Scotch

Title: Three empties  
Author: SRu  
Summary: Three men, three women, three emotional pieces. Please review  
Rating: PG  
Archive: Please ask  
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel. This is just for fun.  
Spoilers: Well, "The Berrisford Agenda" went almost like this.  
  
Megan, thanks for beta-reading!  
Part 1: Scotch.   
  
I can't believe it.   
  
This morning, she smiled and kissed me goodbye. I come home to find a police car in my driveway. "I'm sorry, Colonel Lydecker." Sorry, my ass. Someone's going to be sorry when I find out who. The only question would be "Ice pick first? Or matches?"   
  
You would think that the scotch would be helping by now. I can't remember if this was a full bottle when I started.   
  
I talked to her mom. She cried into the phone. They are all flying down here for the funeral. I'm going to have to explain to them how I couldn't take care of their little girl. It's going to suck.   
  
I'm going to need to be sober.   
  
All you have to do is put the bottle away, now. Over there, with the rest of them in the liquor cabinet. Do it, soldier!   
  
Where did she get the cabinet, anyway? Grandfather, or something. There he is in the big family picture someone took at our wedding. All her brothers, sisters, and the three aunts.   
  
There we are at the senior prom. That one was a vacation in Wyoming. The big one is just the two of us at our wedding. Her big white gown, and my dress uniform. She likes pictures.   
  
*Liked* pictures. Get the tense right.   
  
The pictures are all getting blurry. What's wrong?   
  
You're drunk, Lydecker. You're a sorry excuse for a soldier.   
  
Why did we put the coffee table exactly there? I never liked this carpet. At least the walls aren't rocking anymore.   
  
Where did all that scotch go? 


	2. Vodka

Title: Three empties  
Author: SRu  
Summary: Three men, three women, three emotional pieces. Please review  
Rating: PG  
Archive: Please ask  
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel. This is just for fun.  
Spoilers: Well, "The Berrisford Agenda" went almost like this.  
  
Megan, thanks for beta-reading!  
Part 2. Vodka   
  
I can't believe it.   
  
This morning, she smiled and kissed me. Now I'm sitting on a park bench, with a stolen bottle of Stolichnaya, and the smell of smoke in my clothes.   
  
I don't give a shit about the clothes. I don't think Rachel did either. Not that it matters now.   
  
I snuck in to the hospital. Nothing was going to stop me from seeing her. The torture of transgenic hearing: surgeons were chatting with each other, standing at the end of the hall. "Extensive brain damage." "Flat-line." "Hopeless case. Too bad." Rachel? Or someone else?  
  
I sat next to her bed. There was dried blood in her hair. I could hear her heart beating, but she wasn't even breathing for herself. A machine was running that. Tubes, and wires, and chemical smells like some deep, secret lab under Manticore.   
  
I couldn't decide. Maybe she'd wake up, if I yelled. No, maybe I'd break her completely if I touched her. I heard the footsteps of a nurse make her rounds, so I vanished without choosing.   
  
Then I was back on the street, and it seemed like I was still invisible. No one would make eye contact. How do normals know a monster when they see one?   
  
Maybe the alcohol will dissolve me completely. I hope.   
  
If I go back, the psych guys will talk to me. I'll answer their questions. They will watch my eyes, and watch my fingers twitch. A wise nod, and wrinkles between the eyes. They will tape me down, and wire me up. They will put me under. Everything will go away, except the voice "You don't need a heart, 494. We're taking it out, and putting it in the freezer."   
  
You would think that someone would make a comfortable park bench. Isn't it bad enough that the cops drive by and glare at me?   
  
Oh, great. Three black Humvees.   
  
Stoli should take the edge off the tasers, right?   
  
No, it's empty. 


	3. Pinot Noir

Title: Three empties  
Author: SRu  
Summary: Three men, three women, three emotional pieces. Please review  
Rating: PG  
Archive: Please ask  
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel. This is just for fun.  
Spoilers: Well, "The Berrisford Agenda" went almost like this.  
  
Megan, thanks for beta-reading!  
Part 3. Pinot Noir   
  
I can't believe it.   
  
Six of us, armed and camouflaged, go in. Five come out. You would think the old soldier and his four kids would be zipping me into a plastic bag. The way *I* would bet, the body bag would say "Cale" on it. The stupid guy, whos legs don't work, but he wants to play "war" with the healthy ones.   
  
Why did I open a bottle of red wine, anyway? The light catches it just right, and it's the color of my blood. That's one of the things I still remember from being shot. I keep telling myself I'm supposed to learn from everything, and I still haven't figured that one out.   
  
Max was just lying there. Enough light to see her face, but I didn't know what was wrong until I felt the sticky dampness of her jacket, and smelled blood. I want to know what she was thinking, just before she went still. Can't ask now.   
  
Why didn't I ever open a bottle of this stuff with Max? We drank white wine, ate pasta, and played chess. Cool, calm, intellectual Logan. Just trying to prove that there was nothing wrong with the brain, anyway.   
  
I think it was a bad choice. Because it could have been different. Red wine, rare steak, then waking up in the chaos of wrinkled sheets and hangovers. Valerie and I started out that way, not that it really did us any good.   
  
Now there are things I can only imagine, but can't know. Orgasm quick and silent like a knife in the back? I'd want her to have the energy and enthusiasm that I see between her and that motorcycle. Screaming transgenic ecstasy. I'd make millions selling that as porno. What if Lydecker has told her it's like death? Sex would be something she does *to* other people. Makes my skin crawl thinking about it.   
  
I feel like I'm half way through a book, and the rest of the pages are ripped out. I want the next chapter, damn it. I need to know what happens to those characters. Was it supposed to have a happy ending?   
  
The bottle is empty. I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm too drunk to get back into the chair. If I try, I'll just wind up on the floor, until Bling stops in tomorrow morning. More humiliation.   
  
Self-pity doesn't solve anything, Cale. You should know that by now.   
  
Just right now, there is nothing else left. 


End file.
